


tulips

by nbbucky



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bucky & Winter are different personalities, Disordered Eating & Recovery, Dissociative Identity Disorder, M/M, Manhandling, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Minor Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Personalities, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Porn With Plot, Slow Burn, Trans Male Character, Trans Sam Wilson, Winter adores Sam and wants to take care of him, shared mindscape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:40:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28578393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nbbucky/pseuds/nbbucky
Summary: “I bought the collection because of 'Tulips,' I think I have the first stanza memorized.” Unlike others, Winter did not underestimate the woman beside him so he knew her turn of phrase was a trait she had developed to seem soft and human; her memory was astonishing, if she thought she knew something, she certainly did.“I am nobody;” Natasha said, “I have nothing to do with explosions.” She wasn’t looking at the book, she had placed it on the table before she had spoken, “I love that part, if only, right?”
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, The Winter Soldier/Sam Wilson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 40





	tulips

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by 'Tulips' by Slyvia Plath (https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/49013/tulips-56d22ab68fdd0) and Winter's Wake Up by InimitableBiscuit (https://archiveofourown.org/works/16780690)

Winter can taste blood, he had never been given such long term control over the Asset before. Before the capture, before Bucky Barnes fractured his brain in two, the Asset was always under Barnes’ control. Winter knows that Barnes never called their ‘body’  _ the Asset  _ but Winter can’t control it. When he tries to he can feel a dark buzzing under his skin, bracing for an attack he won’t be able to defend himself from. 

Winter can taste blood and he, against all odds, was able to drag the Asset back to the hotel in Russia. Winter makes it back to the room and he flicks the light on. It blinks on and off and on and off before staying on, dim and dingily revealing the tiny room he was holing up in. When he decides to clean his wounds, cook some of the instant brown gruel he stole from a store before planning his next Hydra attack, Barnes weakly protests but Barnes hasn’t done much since they saved the man from the bridge.

“Stevie,” Barnes corrects in their shared mindscape.

Winter grunts non-committally but Barnes is on a roll, “You gotta sleep, I’m trusting you to take care of us and we’re exhausted but you just keep pushing. Shower, shave, sleep. I know I haven’t been awake much but from what I’ve seen in the backseat the twenty-first century is pretty great… still no flying cars though, guess Stark never got it right.”

Winter freezes at the attempt at a joke, he isn’t sure how to respond but the warm feeling from Barnes lets him know it’s okay that he isn’t yet sure. Winter makes the palm of his flesh hand rub over his eye before he concedes to the greater defeat as well. He doesn’t care for wasted time but if this is what irritates Barnes into speech he will do as he requests. He was a person first, he should know best. 

The shower is hot, scaldingly so, but it is so much better than the cold set deep in the Asset’s bones that when it first hits their back, Winter groans.

He regrets to admit that he does feel better after cleaning, no matter what happens, like all bodies, the Asset likes to be indulged. And as Bucky had complained Winter pushes the Asset too far, constantly. Winter stretches, a towel tied loosely over his lower half and he feels secure. If someone broke into his little room at that exact moment Winter could still kill whoever it was, probably easily as well. He dresses anyway, there’s a saying about that, being overprepared, not like Winter knows. Barnes probably knows but he isn’t speaking, too busy ruminating in self-loathing. 

Winter scratches at the scar tissue where the Asset’s arm and flesh meet, one of his carefully constructed tics. He had found out that people were very suspicious of a man that could sit and stare motionlessly for an indeterminate amount of time. It was all very hard to remember but he tried to engage in ones that felt like they could be natural. 

Winter finally does eat, the food is too hot but he continues to eat and Barnes comments something about how oatmeal is oatmeal no matter the century.

“Are you going to be speaking regularly now?” Winter asks carefully, he wasn’t sure how to approach Barnes about his silence. 

“I’m not sure. I’m just doing what feels right.”

Winter has nothing to say to that and he doubts Barnes wants a reply so he scrapes the remnants of his meal onto his spoon and finishes it off. Against Barnes’ wishes, Winter plans his attack on the base further south before resting the Asset. 

*

The plan went wrong very, very fast but not because of something Winter could have planned for. Half-way through a fight, he sees a flash of moving red quite unlike blood. No, Winter could not have possibly planned to see the little ballerina dancing her bloody dance. 

She smirked at him as she loomed over the Hydra agent’s unmoving body, “You’re not supposed to be here. If I remember correctly, Rogers told me they were looking for you in Lithuania,” She ducked to evade an agent’s blow before slamming her elbow into his stomach. “Well that was a while ago actually, I heard from a different birdie that they’re back in America so I guess you shook them off, huh.”

“Yes,” Winter answered as he used the Asset’s arm to slam one of the scientists against the wall, his head bounced against the concrete with a sickening crack before he slumped forward in the hold.

“If we’re here for the same reason, I’m sad to say I beat you to it by a long shot.” Winter hadn’t noticed how silent the room had become until Natalia held up a USB. Winter knew he wouldn’t be able to beat her reflexes and take it from her, even with the serum but after a deliberate pause, he still outstretched the Asset's flesh arm to take it. 

She stepped back and tutted, “You’ll have to beat me to get it and I’m sure we both know I can still flip you, James.”

“Not my name,” Winter grumbled, “What do you want for the USB?”

“Come back with me to America, talk to Steve. What?” She said to the look on his face, “What else did you expect me to say? I’m tired of his pouting.” 

“I think she likes him,” Barnes laughed as Winter used the Asset to follow Natalia.

“You don’t like ‘James’? What do you want to be called?”

“Winter.”

“Oh, I’m sure we can come up with something better–”

“No. Call me Winter.” He could feel Barnes in the back of his brain, worried about his tone. 

Natalia didn’t speak for a moment as they removed themselves from the base but eventually said, bluntly, “It may be more beneficial than you think right now to remove your sense of self from your past.”

Winter had many thoughts in regards to what Natalia had just said, not all of them pleasant, but all important. He remained silent, he had no words that could have adequately expressed those thoughts. He could not push sounds out of the Asset’s throat, it was as if there was something stuck, he couldn’t understand it.

“You’re hurt,” Barnes whispered and Winter was confused. He constantly made sure the Asset was in working order, he had sustained no injuries. He was left more confused by Barnes’ low tut. 

The air was biting outside and Winter was grateful for the mask covering his face. The snow flurried around them and they must have stood out from miles away but the only people that would have seen them were already starting to decay in the building they were abandoning. For a moment Winter felt trapped in the cold as the Asset moved forward on autopilot. He was meant to decay in the cold as well, he was no better–sudden, subtle warmth traveled through him and he couldn’t understand what Barnes was doing but he would not tell him to stop. Was that gratitude?

It was some time later after reaching a small, dark car when Natalia spoke,“You have everything with you,” It was a question said like a statement, she knew enough about Winter to know he was always ready to leave a place forever. 

“Yes,” He answered anyway and slipped into the passenger seat. The ride was quiet, which Winter prefered. There was no mission report, truthfully, that made his skin itch as if he were doing something against his very nature. He can hear Barnes’ violent reaction to that, his insistence that it was actually very unnatural but Winter blocked it out. The Asset is better than other human bodies but it grows weak nearly as quickly and Winter had not noticed, too distracted by Natalia’s sudden appearance. He wanted to rest but he did not trust the woman beside him to not violate him, as all others had. 

They travel in silence for an incredibly long time, they seem content in that silence and they re-enter America silently. Winter expected Natalia to hand the Asset over to the Captain as soon as they returned but instead the building they arrived to was cold, minimal, one that could only belong to someone that had never quite shaken off the red room.

“Why are we here?” Winter asked, Barnes had fallen silent sometime during the bitter, cold, boat ride and had not spoken up since. 

She shrugged and beckoned him into the house. 

*

It had been two quiet, content days. Winter was able to rest and replenish the Asset, Barnes was beginning to murmur, and Winter was going mad. Natalia would cook enough for the two of them at meal times, coax him to feed the Asset but otherwise they interacted infrequently. She had a second bedroom and Winter was unsure why she would need it but he didn’t ask. No matter how much she turned up the heat her apartment always felt cold to the Asset. 

It was over breakfast on the third morning, eggs, toast and coffee, that Winter began a conversation. He sipped the coffee first, he appreciated the energy it gave the Asset but was not fond of the oppressive, bitter taste of the dark liquid. 

“When will you make me hold up my end of the deal?” Winter couldn’t make eye contact; instead he forced himself to eat the dark bread.

“What? Is my company really that terrible?” She laughed softly before running her fingers through her hair, “Steve, he isn’t in the States right now so I can’t hand you off to him. I don’t know how long we’ll be waiting for him to get back.”

“She’s worried about him,” Barnes noted, he still sounded exhausted, Winter wasn’t sure how that was possible when the Asset was so well. 

“You are worried,” Winter repeated, he tried to say it as a statement but it came out as a question. 

“I can’t contact him. I know he’s just looking for you but it seems like he left right before we returned.” She finished her food and dumped her dishes in the sink, “You can read my books if you want to do more than sit in mission mode on my couch all day, I have work to do today and can’t babysit you any longer.”

“Natalia,” Winter began to say but she cut him off.

“It’s Natasha.” She corrected, a bit unkindly before she gathered her things and left.

Winter had the rest of the day to himself, he didn’t feel comfortable moving her things but she told him to distract himself. He came upon a small, worn, dogeared book on the table in the living room. He lifted the book and flipped through it, Winter tried to be careful with the book with the Asset’s flesh hand. 

_ Ariel  _ by Sylvia Plath

“I’ve never heard of this, must be after me,” Barnes stated, “Are you gonna read it?”

Winter read the first few pages before Barnes started to tune out with a final comment of, “It’s a poetry book, you don’t have to read it in order.” 

But Winter did read it in order and when he finished, he read it again, the poems made a strange feeling coil in the Asset’s chest but he couldn’t put it down. The Asset’s flesh hand thumbed the page containing  _ Lady Lazarus  _ because he knew what the next poem was. He closed his eyes but the words,  _ The tulips should be behind bars like dangerous animals  _ still echoed in his brain. He did not know how long he sat on the edge of Natasha’s couch holding onto the page but not turning it before he heard the door click open quietly.

She came beside him, she did not smell of sweat or look out of place but Winter knew what her hands were capable of and he was sure if there was not fresh blood on the Widow’s hands now, there would be soon. When she plucked the book from his hand he offered no resistance and she noted the place where the Asset’s finger had been burned by the pages.

“Did you finish it once?”

“Yes,” He whispered, he did not mean to speak quietly but it seemed he could never work the Asset’s voicebox in his favor. 

“Was it  _ Tulips _ ?”

“Yes,” He repeated. 

“I bought the collection because of  _ Tulips _ , I think I have the first stanza memorized.” Unlike others, Winter did not underestimate the woman beside him so he knew her turn of phrase was a trait she had developed to seem soft and human; her memory was astonishing, if she thought she knew something, she certainly did. 

“I am nobody;” Natasha said, “I have nothing to do with explosions.” She wasn’t looking at the book, she had placed it on the table before she had spoken, “I love that part, if only, right?” 

She stood and walked to the kitchen, “It doesn’t look like you made a dent in any of the food?”

Winter didn’t respond; he was thinking of tulips.

“I didn’t tell you you could eat so you didn’t. Am I right? I know I’m right. I’ll make us something to eat.” She turned her back to him, not as an act of trust but because she did not fear what he could do to her, she began to cook and the Asset signaled to Winter that it needed food. 

The silence enveloped them again for some time.

Winter’s internal clock was perfect, it was the only way he knew days were passing. It is after eight more days that Natasha looked up at him and told him she had a mission to go on. 

“I’m ready,” The few things he had, the small amount of clothes Natasha had provided for him, he was ready to discard.

“You aren’t coming,” She looked away from him, “I can’t be seen with you until you talk to Cap but I think you might starve to death if you stay here. I’m going to take you to Sam’s.”

Winter was not sure who that was, the confidence Natasha said his name and the look she gave him indicated that he should know but his memories were often jumbled. Barnes offered no hints.

“Sam Wilson,” She said, “Friend of Steve Rogers, you ripped a steering wheel out of his hands and then ripped off his wings?”

_ The one that could fly. _ Winter nodded, a sinking feeling was coiling in the Asset’s chest again.

*

“What do you wanna be called?” Sam had asked after Natasha’s car rolled away; no one had ever asked Winter that before. He and Natasha had made assumptions about each other, the man on the bridge, ‘Stevie,’ had called him Bucky, and the Hydra soldiers that saw him called him the Asset. 

“Winter,” He said.

Sam’s arms had been crossed but they dropped to his side, he nodded once before responding, “Cool, call me Sam.”

Sam was weary of him, Winter could tell so he did his best to do nothing wrong in his home. If Sam asked Winter to sleep on the floor he would have in lieu of apology. Winter did not know how to apologize, how to tell him that the only people he wants to hurt now are those that twisted and fractured Barnes into Winter and the Asset. Instead, he makes himself a ghost whenever he can, it was a talent that had been carved into him long ago. He tidies up after Sam, doesn’t complain about anything and listens when Sam talks to him. It must be lonely to be left behind, the least Winter could do was be easy to babysit. 

Over breakfast one day, (a breakfast far more luxurious than anything Natasha ever made, like Winter, she ate in abundance because she knew it fueled her body to be a better weapon, Sam relished the food on his plate, there was a joy in the habitual act that Winter couldn’t understand,) Sam looked over at him. 

“Man, do you even like black coffee?” Sam asked, “This is good coffee so if you’re just going to grimace every time you take a sip I’m gonna be a little offended.”

Winter didn’t say anything in response and Sam sighed, Sam was so different from Natasha, he couldn’t handle the silence but Winter did not know how to fill the silence as it was what he knew. 

“C’mon, man, work with me. Do you like the coffee?” Sam tried again but the question confused Winter, what did it matter? The coffee offered a benefit to the Asset.

“Ok, I’ll try a third time. I take my coffee with half-and-half. You know what that is?”

Winter understood that question so he replied, “No.”

“Well, it’s equal parts milk and cream, so it’s thicker than milk and sweet enough that I don’t put sugar in. Would you want to try some?”

Winter shrugged, it didn’t matter to him; if Sam wanted to pour some in his coffee than he would let him. Sam poured the half-and-half into his cup the dark liquid became a softer brown as the half-and-half swirled through the cup. Winter tried not to think of how similar it was to a drop of blood in snow. Sam stirred the liquid around for Winter and then sat back in his seat. When Winter took another sip, the sweet flavor covered his tongue, he took another sip and another.

“Hey, the coffee isn’t going anywhere,” Sam laughed softly, Winter ignored the fact that he liked the sound, he liked how light and human Sam was. Winter finished the cup faster than he expected and tried to ignore the disappointment creeping up on him.

“I’ll make you another cup,” Sam said and held his hand out for Winter’s mug. He handed it over and immediately was overwhelmed by the warm feeling in the Asset’s chest.

Sam stood near the coffee machine, Winter didn’t understand how it worked but he had no idea how to ask Sam if he knew. “You should help me cook sometime. I heard from Steve that you used to cook.”

“I–I don’t remember,” Winter whispered and looked away, it was easier than explaining Barnes.

“That’s alright, I’m probably a better chef than you ever were.” It should have been an insult but it wasn’t and suddenly Winter felt a pressure in the Asset’s chest followed by a loud noise out of the Asset’s mouth.

“Holy shit, did I make you laugh?” Sam asked as he took his seat again and handed the cup over to Winter. The coffee was already that lighter brown color.

“It was funny,” Winter replied.

*

That evening Sam extended his cooking offer again, Winter had nothing better to do so he accepted. 

“I’m going to make stew chicken which I think will be way above your pay grade but I can teach you how to make rice. I never got around to buying a rice cooker so it should actually be a bit of a challenge.”

Winter liked cooking with Sam, a lot, once the rice was simmering on the stove he helped Sam chop up some vegetables. 

“You’re so good with a knife,” Sam said, as if the man in front of him was not a trained assassin, and turned away from him to pull the chicken out of the fridge, according to Sam he had been letting it marinate overnight. Winter knew he could paralyze him easily and Sam turning away from Winter was an act of trust and compassion to something that deserved none.

“My mom called the other day and reminded me of all the different types of food we made in our house or got in the restaurants around the area. I really wanted Jamican food after that. I hope you like this sorta thing.” 

The smells that filled the kitchen were dizzying, the Asset kept signaling to Winter to eat. 

Sam plated food for them both and began to eat; Winter watched carefully how Sam ate the food and Winter copied, he scooped a bit of the rice and peas, vegetables and tender chicken to put in his mouth. The food was incredible, Winter felt the Asset’s eyes shut and a soft noise escape from the Asset’s throat. He continued to eat before Sam could say anything, he finished his plate far before Sam did and tried to ignore the way the Asset was still begging him to eat.

“I’m glad we found something you like, you know I was suspicious when you didn’t eat as much as Steve. That man is a bottomless pit cause of the serum but you hardly eat, I guess you just didn’t like what you were eating. You can serve yourself seconds.”

“No, I don’t need anymore,” Winter said although the Asset was not full.

“I know you’re not full,” Sam said as he was eating, “So get yourself some more.”

Winter felt like it would be worse for him to refuse again so he ate more until he had his fill. The Asset had never been so comfortable before.

*

That was how they continued with different recipes everyday: ravioli, falafel, pizza, home fries with fried eggs, pancakes, stir fry, and all types of take out. Winter realized he wasn’t fond of things that were overly fried or sweet but he ate it all anyway.

They were eating spaghetti and meatballs which Winter enjoyed.

“I’m kinda running low on new things to eat, maybe we should start doing repeats. Any requests?”

Winter finished chewing first, “I know you like the pizza. We can make that again.”

“Ok, what do you want to eat?” Sam questioned.

It was hardwired in Winter to not reply to that question, he went back to eating. It was a few moments later that Sam tried again.

“I’m not going to punish you if you tell me you like or dislike something. We both know you could take me.”

Winter didn’t like that reminder that he could hurt Sam and Sam wouldn’t be able to protect himself. It made Winter feel sick.

“I like the ravioli,” Winter said.

“A pasta man. Cool.”

“You should,” Winter suddenly said.

“I should what?” Sam looked confused but not worried as he broke a part of a meatball off to eat.

“Punish me,” Winter said through gritted teeth, “After all that I have done with the Asset.”

“Yeah, well, Steve still cares about you. Everyone is friends with Nat and Hawkeye so I think you’re good. Is that why you won’t talk to me? Do you think this is retribution for what’s happened?”   
  
Winter didn’t know who Hawkeye was but assumed it was someone that had also been made into a weapon, “I pulled you out of the sky, Sam.”

“But I’m here today,” Sam smiled at him but Winter had to leave the table. He knew that Sam was saying that to stay in Winter’s good graces because the Asset was a threat to his well being. No one could have been hurt in such a profound way and forgive.

*

Winter did not sleep often, only when the Asset demanded it. That night after leaving the dinner table he sat on Sam’s guest bed staring at the wall in the dark.

Winter felt that he should leave for Sam’s stake, go back to hunting down Hydra bases, he knew Natasha had left the USB in her apartment and out of respect for their deal he hadn’t broken in and taken it. But then he thought of Sam’s laugh and how badly he  _ wanted  _ to hear it at least one more time. Instead, abruptly, like a clap of thunder he heard screaming. Winter jumped up and left his room without a second thought. He shouldn’t have banged on Sam’s door but he had to make sure no one was hurting Sam. 

“What is going on?” Barnes asked groggily, the first time he had been awake in days.

“Sam,” Winter whispered in response but then he shouted it louder for Sam to hear. The shouting ended soon after and the door opened on a frazzled and tired looking Sam.

“Did I wake you?” He yawned, “My bad.”

Winter could see and hear through his nonchalant behavior in the way Sam’s shoulders were rounded down and his voice hoarse from screaming. 

“Come,” Winter said and guided Sam to the kitchen.

“What are we doing here, Winter? I gotta go back to sleep.” Sam’s head was in his hands and Winter wanted to comfort him.

“I know what those screams mean,” Winter said, “You won’t be able to sleep again for some time.”   
  
“You’re probably right,” Sam laughed, bitter and small, it was so unlike how Sam would act in the daylight but Winter didn’t mind. He would never force Sam to pretend to be someone else; it was a painful existence that Winter knew all too well.

“You hungry?” Winter asked, trying to adopt Sam’s casual, open, friendly turn of speech.

“I could eat.”

Winter got to work, he remembered Sam telling him about his mother and how every Sunday for lunch he and his sisters would have pb&j’s with milk. Winter wasn’t sure how to make it right but Barnes guided the hands of the Asset from inside their skull. Once he was done with Sam’s he made one for himself because he wanted one, he wouldn’t say but he hoped Sam would be proud.

He placed the plates in front of Sam who looked dumbfounded, “You made this for me, Winter?”

Winter had already started to eat his, “Yeah, you said you like them before.”

“I did, I guess I never thought you were listening to me when I talked to you.”

Winter tried not to be offended, he knew what he looked liked, closed off and dangerous, “I always listen when you talk, Sam.”

“Yeah,” Sam said as he picked up half the sandwich, cut in a diagonal like his Ma used to do and started to eat.

It was after they finished their meals that Winter asked Sam if he wanted to talk about the screams.

“It was just a nightmare, I have them pretty often. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Because Sam didn’t want to talk, Winter tried to let the topic drop, “I have something I want to tell you.”

“Ok, I’m ready to listen.”

“I want to help you in the way you have helped me.” It was hard for the words to come out but Winter forced them out.

“Thanks, Winter but another time.”

Winter nodded and finished his glass of milk. 

“I’m not gonna be able to go to sleep after this, wanna watch a movie?” 

The movie was low stakes, no action, a group of teenage girls into fashion and matchmaking.

“My little sister adored  _ Clueless  _ when it first came out. I hated it at first but it reminds me of her now,” Sam had said when he first turned it on. Winter didn’t see the real appeal but he wasn’t going to tell Sam to change it. 

It was some time during the movie when Sam said, “I was falling. In my nightmare I was falling but then it wasn’t me, I was watching, I was watching,” It was like Sam couldn’t finish his sentence, the light from the TV illuminated his face as he stared forward, “I was watching someone else fall.”

“I’m sorry,” Winter said, “I will always be sorry.”

“Thank you.”

It wasn’t long until Sam lulled to sleep exhausted from his night terrors, his head rested against the Asset’s flesh arm and shoulder. Winter wanted to touch him but he didn’t, he knew there were limits to what he wanted. Winter felt inhuman just imagining wrapping the Asset’s arms around Sam, he knew Sam would flinch from the cold metal. Sam was someone Winter would never deserve. He waited until the movie ended before carefully removing himself from Sam’s side to let him sleep soundly on the couch. 

Winter retreated back to his room to sit in the dark.

*

Winter was unsure how to handle the revelation that he wanted to touch and hold Sam. It distracted him from all other thoughts, he didn’t wonder about when the others would return or the USB or Hydra, he only thought of Sam’s smile, the little gap between his teeth, the way he liked to shower in the morning after going on a run, the music that filled the house whenever they weren’t talking or eating. Sam had welcomed him into his home like Winter hadn’t betrayed his trust before he even had the chance to earn it. 

Sometimes someone would call Sam on the phone, someone that wasn’t an Avenger, Winter assumed it was his family. It reminded Winter that Barnes had a family once, he could not recall if they were as happy as Sam’s seemed to be and he didn’t feel comfortable asking. 

Sam was on the small metallic phones that were common in this age and the sound was coming out like a walkie talkie but the smooth, soft female voice that was coming out was much clearer than any device Hydra had fitted Winter with.

Winter was reading; Sam had a wonderful book collection, he wasn’t a fan of many modern ‘conveniences’ they only reminded Winter of the shiny silver Hydra technology they used to train the Asset. He could recall when Barnes finally shut the world out and the Asset became a weapon and Winter was born. Books, ones that didn’t have red covers, were safe and he liked the ones that told stories of the times he had passed through as a ghost. In the Asset’s hand was  _ A Raisin in the Sun _ , he was enjoying it so far and he was excited to exchange thoughts with Sam. Sam was more articulate and opinionated than Winter so most of the conversations involved Sam giving his opinions and Winter asking questions about the time period; Sam had begun to predict that and tried to prepare the basic information before Winter finished what he was reading. Winter was a fast reader, he had to be because the Asset had to be able to read and memorize information at breakneck speed, he was exhausting Sam’s personal library. Sam promised to get him books, Winter wished he could have gone with him but if anyone saw them together Winter would have put a target on Sam’s head. Currently, although Winter appeared to be reading the Asset’s ears were still tuned to Sam’s conversation.

“Sammy,” the voice said, “How’s D.C? You still hanging around Captain America? When are you gonna bring him up to New York? I heard he’s single.”   
  
“You are not allowed to date Captain America.” Sam said with a roll of his eyes.

“Why not? Cause I’m black?”   
  
“Because you’re married!” Sam said but he was smiling “And you don’t want that kind of attention anyway.”

“Yeah, I know, but let me pretend for a second.”   
  
“It’s been a second.”

“Stop being such a little brother.”

“I can’t help it, otherwise you wouldn’t call me, it’s why you find me charming.”

“Yeah, yeah, you still want Ma’s baked ziti recipe?”

“Yeah, it’s baked pasta, I don’t know why I can’t get this right.” Sam was a bit exasperated.

“You might be using the wrong cheese or missing a spice or something,” She sounded both judgmental and reassuring.

“Well alright just tell me the recipe.”

“Bro, I’ll just text it to you.”   
  
“Why did you call me?”

“Because I wanted to hear your voice and know that you were okay and not just falling out of the sky.”

“I’m good, Sasha, you don’t need to worry.”

Winter imagined Sam taking him to New York to see his family and he recoiled at the thought. He didn’t fit into Sam’s life like his family did, like ‘Steve’ could, if he tried. Winter knew he was a ghost inhabiting the Asset, so acutely was he aware of that fact he couldn’t even fantasize about living a life near Sam for any longer than absolutely necessary. He was resolute; the Asset’s eyes refocused on the page in front of him and he went back to reading. 

_ Man… (He starts to pound the floor with his fists, sobbing wildly) THAT MONEY IS MADE OUT OF MY FATHER’S FLESH–  _

*

“What did you think?” Sam asked him.

“It was tragic,” Winter replied, he was still holding the play script close to him. Barnes had been awake during a bit of his reading and he was uncomfortable, it reminded him too much of the ever present plight of poverty. 

“Yeah? I mean it is, I agree even with the hopeful ending there’s so much sadness. But  _ A Raisin in the Sun  _ is a classic and it can teach you some about race and class in the last couple decades.”

Yes,” Winter said and tried not to think of how lives hinged on money, how those lives did not realize they were more fragile and vulnerable than even they knew, how Winter could erase an entire building like it had never happened, how money was rendered into flesh and blood once it was the only thing someone had to keep them alive. He could have tried to say any of that but the words would have been jumbled and wrong. “What book should I read next?”

“I don’t have that many left, maybe we can try  _ Fun Home _ , it’s a graphic novel so let me know if you like it when you’re done.”

Winter admired the delicate way Sam handled books, as if they were the most precious treasure. Everytime he handed over a book to Winter, he decided to use the same care. 

* 

Winter was never careless, everything he did he did because it had to be done, because of that his senses were also always on high alert, when Sam knocked a knife off the counter by accident Winter caught it so it wouldn’t fall and accidentally hit Sam. He hadn't thought of what it would look like to Sam, to see the Winter Soldier lunge at him to grab a knife, Winter didn’t want to be hurt when he saw how violently Sam flinched so he put the knife down back at its place.

“Sorry, Winter. You startled me,” Sam said, unable to make eye contact. 

“No, I understand. I am a tulip; I should be locked away.” 

Winter turned and left the building; he wasn’t sure where to go but he had to separate himself from Sam. 

*

Winter wasn’t sure where to go so he went back to Natasha’s house. He could stay there until she returned and once she returned he would demand to be handed over. Winter had to force the Asset to curl up in the guest bed and he hoped the Asset would wither away. 

The Asset’s eyes opened days later, he had entered a strange quiet, he wasn’t calm, his mind was tumultuous and filled with despair even when he was able to sleep. At first, Winter did not know why the Asset’s eyes were open but then he heard a noise in the apartment and silently crept from the bed. Winter was never unprepared, he unsheathed the knife he always had on him to attack whoever was in the apartment.

He froze when he saw a man ravaging through Natasha’s kitchen. The man slammed the cabinet door shut and turned to face Winter; he was shorter than Winter with features that were hard to describe, his eyes and hair were in between more standard hair and eye colors, he looked both intense and laidback, stern and lax. He had eyes like a hawk.

“Are you Hawkeye?” Winter asked.

“Hey, someone’s mentioned me to you? That’s kinda cool, at least it would be if you weren’t holding a knife.”

Winter removed the knife from Hawkeye’s line of sight, he could kill him without it if need be, “What are you doing here, Hawkeye?”

“If we’re going to be talking, can you call me Clint or Barton? Anything but my codename.”

“What are you doing here, Barton?” 

“Wilson told Nat (who told me to tell you) that Wilson is worried about you,” Barton said, Winter suddenly noticed how uncomfortable he looked in Natasha’s house, as if he had never been there or rarely was there. 

“She needs a decorator or something,” Barton muttered, certainly to himself before opening and closing the refrigerator. He dusted his hands off on his black jeans as if he had finished a hard job, “You’re gonna go back to Wilson’s, right? ‘Cause otherwise I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do, like, I’m not gonna fight the Winter Soldier y’know.”   
  
“Yes, I’ll go back.”

“Perfect,” Barton smiled, “I should find Wanda and give her a visit. They made me take a plane ride for what could have been a fucking phone call.” 

*

Winter entered Sam’s house differently than he had the first time, at first he had been an uncomfortable stranger and now it was painful to be away from Sam’s side.

“Winter!” Sam had been reading on his couch, he looked happy to Winter but he could see the exhaustion, Sam hadn’t been sleeping. He felt guilty for abandoning Sam, for making Sam worry about him. Sam bolted up from the couch and Winter saw it coming before it happened, Sam was unstable on his feet and the Asset’s arm reached out to steady him. The Asset’s flesh hand had settled on Sam’s waist, ‘Sam’s waist is small,’ flittered through Winter’s mind but it was an unimportant observation of beauty. 

“You haven’t been eating or sleeping,” Winter said, he didn’t know how to let his distress at that fact show but he wanted to let Sam know that Winter was not worth the stress. 

Coming from you that’s basically a joke, man,” Sam said. He hadn’t stepped out of Winter’s hold.

“Sam,” Winter chided but cringed internally, he had tried a bit too hard to sound serious and his Russian accent had slipped out far stronger than usual, as if he had said Сэм instead of Sam.

Sam didn’t look like he had noticed or perhaps it didn’t bother him, “I was worried about you, Winter. You can’t just dip like that; fucking super soldiers, you know Steve didn’t even tell me he was leaving again until after he left. People care about you.”

Winter wanted to ask if Sam really cared for him but he couldn’t force the words out, the Asset’s hand was still pressed against Sam’s waist. He wondered for a brief moment what Sam’s torso looked bare but Winter would never have the chance to know so he pushed the thought down. 

“If you were a hugger, I’d give you one, I’m so glad you’re okay,” Sam continued. Winter thought to say that he had nothing to worry about, there was no one on the planet that Winter knew of that could take down the Asset, instead he slipped the Asset’s flesh hand to encircle more of Sam and brought the metal arm around him as well. He felt awkward but Sam’s noise of absolute glee made up for it by a mile. Sam brought his arms around the Asset’s broad shoulders and their bodies were intertwined for a moment; Winter had been wrong, Sam did not flinch away from the Asset’s metal arm, he held the Asset tight all the same. 

Winter started to pull away, he didn’t want to but thought that he had to to retain Sam’s comfort but then Sam looked up at him and smiled and he looked so relieved and gorgeous that something compelled Winter to lean down and press the Asset’s mouth against Sam’s. The second he did it Winter felt deeply flawed and rotten but the next second Sam was kissing the Asset.

Sam pulled back, “Fuck, Winter, took you long enough,” before pressing another insistent kiss against the Asset’s, against  _ Winter’s mouth _ . It was another sudden revelation, Winter was what Sam wanted. Winter surged into the kiss, he felt heat coiling throughout  _ his body  _ as he held Sam tight against him, Sam’s mouth was as soft as he had always imagined.

They had to pull back to breathe, “I want you,” Winter said, his eyes were shut but even if they were open he would have been able to hear Sam’s ragged breath and his answer: “I want you too.”

“But I have something I have to tell you first,” Sam said, finally pulling himself out of Winter’s arms. He sat back on the couch and looked forward at the dark television. Winter sat beside him and relished that he could do so without guilt. He wasn’t sure when he had become less like a weapon and more like a person but it felt good; he placed his hand on top of Sam’s to reassure him and Sam sighed. Winter wanted to say that there was nothing Sam could say that would stop the intensity of his emotions but he knew at times it was better to let Sam fill the silence.

“I’m trans,” Sam said as if Winter would react violently, “I’m proud of who I am but you should know before we go any further. If you’re going to be a dick about it I’d like to pull the band aid off quickly.”

“I don’t even know what that means, Sam.”

Sam looked up at him in shock. “Have you forgotten who you’re talking to?” Winter was attempting to joke but it came across a bit more somber, Sam smiled a little anyway.

“It means that I’m transgender, I was assigned a gender at birth that caused me dsyphoria, like, distress so I’ve gone though hormone therapy. My body and yours are different.”

Winter stroked Sam’s smooth brown hand, “I know.”

“No, Winter, not like that. I don’t mean our races, I mean,” it seemed difficult for Sam to explain and Winter wished, desperately, that he could have helped, that he knew what Sam was trying to tell him, “I was assigned female at birth and I transitioned to male, I had a different name when I was younger and everyone thought I was a girl, when I got older I was just constantly at war with my body, I knew I was a boy but I couldn’t make everyone else see it.”

“And then you did?” Winter asked.

Sam huffed a small laugh, “And then I did, but I never got bottom surgery so I know I’m not what you expect and I’m not sure if,” Sam sighed, “I thought I had gotten over the fear of cis men rejecting me when I was in college but I guess I just really want you to want me, Winter.”

“Sam, do you want me?” Winter asked the question although he remembered Sam saying he wanted Winter moments prior but he wanted to hear the answer again. 

“Of course.”

If Sam wanted him, Sam could have him. Winter leaned forward and kissed Sam’s cheekbone. 

“You’re okay with this?”

“Yes,” Winter said, truthfully he admired Sam, he had full control over his life and body in a way that Winter envied. Sam cared for his body, changed his body for his comfort and happiness, it was more than Winter had ever done or ever had the chance to do. With Sam’s confession no longer in between the two of them the heat returned to Winter’s body. Winter began to press kisses against Sam’s mouth which Sam answered eagerly. Winter may have been a bit hasty, he began to pull at Sam’s clothes, he wanted to hold Sam’s body against his, desperately, the way some needed water.

Sam pushed his hands away without any malice, he looked to be bracing himself, “I’m still nervous but if we’re gonna do this there’s way more space for your big ass in my bed.” 

Winter’s mind went blank for a moment when he heard Sam talk about his bed, when he came to he had lifted Sam with one arm and was walking to his room. He had never seen the inside of Sam’s room but he thought of it sometimes with the shame of a sinner. Sam’s legs were locked around Winter’s waist and one of his hands was trailing through Winter’s long hair. 

“You’re not a tulip. I called Natasha, I had to know what you were talking about, Winter. Fucking Plath, you’re pretentious as all hell but you’re not a tulip, you’re so wonderful,” Sam said when Winter rested him softly on the full bed, his hand was still tangled in Winter’s hair but his legs were unlocked from Winter’s waist instead they were thrown open. Winter imagined what it would be like to slide into Sam. 

“If I’m wonderful, what are you?” Winter pulled Sam’s top off. He still had a tanktop on beneath and Winter wished his super soldier abilities extended to vaporizing powers. He gripped the bottom of the tank top but Sam’s hand came out to stop him.

“No, don’t take off the tanktop,” Sam said. Winter tried not to be disappointed so he pulled his own clothes. When he was done he looked down and realized that Sam had pulled his pants and underwear off.

“I want you to fuck my front hole, I want you to suck my dick, I want, fuck, I just want you so bad, Winter.” He still sounded nervous when he spoke but the words just fanned the heat in Winter because he wanted the same.

Winter crawled forward on the bed and settled himself between Sam’s thighs. He didn’t know exactly how to get Sam off but he would do his best, he hoped that what he lacked in skill he could make up in eagerness because he could not think of anything better than putting his mouth against Sam’s cock. He leaned forward and pressed his tongue against Sam’s dick, he licked a few times and was shocked by the sound that came from Sam’s throat, he sounded wrecked. Winter continued to lick and suck as much of Sam’s dick he could in his mouth. Sam’s thighs were quivering on either side of Winter’s head. On a whim, Winter rubbed one of his fingers in Sam’s wetness without pressing into his front hole.

“No, the other hand,” Sam gasped wetly, “I’ve thought about it; I want it to be your other hand.”

Winter couldn’t feel as much with the metal hand but he still switched and pressed his pointer finger against Sam. When he pushed in, Sam grunted and started begging Winter to move his finger. It was intoxicating, fucking one and then two fingers into Sam as he sucked and licked his dick, the noises Sam made, the strangled way he kept saying Winter, Winter was going to come with his dick pressed against Sam’s mattress. He was rutting into Sam’s sheets and Sam kept saying, “fuck me, fuck me, Winter, fuck me.” Winter angled his fingers in a different way, he wasn’t quite sure what he was doing but he paid attention to the positions that made Sam breathless. He bent his fingers a bit and Sam cried out so Winter kept pressing at that spot and then licking around his fingers. He really was going to come, Sam reached down and held Winter’s free hand, just held it sweetly and somehow  _ that  _ was too much, he licked Sam’s dick once more before pulling back and pressing his face into Sam’s thigh and panting because he was gonna come.

“Oh my god, you’re fucking my matress. God, Winter, that’s so hot.” Sam’s hand holding his, Sam’s fingers threaded through Winter’s hair, and his words of encouragement went straight to Winter’s gut which tightened as his balls pulled tight and he came against Sam’s sheets. Winter didn’t give himself anymore time away from Sam, he dove back in and a few moments later Sam followed him over the tantalizing edge. Sam whimpered when Winter pulled his fingers out and started to play with his own dick when he saw Winter stick the metal fingers in his mouth and suck Sam’s taste off of them. 

“You wanna go again?” Sam said, “I can go again and I want you to fuck me. There’s lube in my bedside drawer.”

Winter knew Sam was soaking but if he wanted to be wetter than Winter would oblige him.

“Whatever you want, моя дорогая.” 

As Winter smeared the liquid on his dick, Sam asked, “What’s moya dorogaya?” 

“It’s Russian.”

“No shit, Sherlock, but what’s it–fuck,” Sam threw his head back as Winter thrusted between Sam’s labia but not pushing into his hole. A bit of Winter’s precome was smeared on Sam’s dick from his thrust. 

“Wait, I want to be on my stomach,” Sam said. Winter flipped him over and Sam laughed, “You really like reminding me how strong you are, huh?”

Winter gave no answer except to place his hand against Sam’s stomach to hold him up as he used his remaining hand to hold his cock steady and press forward. Sam’s tight, wet, heat would have made Winter come immediately if they hadn’t already had a first round. Sam was fucking back on Winter and although he was the one with the serum he felt like he was trying to keep up.

“Сэм,” Winter moaned.

Sam placed one of his hands over Winter’s on his stomach, “I like it when I can hear your accent. Like it when you speak Russian.” His head was hanging down and Winter could see the long span of perfect brown skin from his shoulders to his neck and the beads of sweat making his tank top stick to his skin. Winter leaned forward until their bodies were finally pressed together, he wanted to get so close, wanted to fuck Sam so deep that noone would be able to tell where Winter ended and where Sam began. 

“Сэм. моя дорогая. Ты слишком узка там,” Winter hoped he sounded tender when he spoke because it was all praise for the man he was holding. He heard Sam’s whine and began to tug on Sam’s cock as a reward. He was suddenly aware that if Sam came he could be able to feel it around him and that sent an electric shock up his spine. Winter was shaking a bit but he was going to hold his orgasm back until he felt Sam tighten and twitch around him. Sam’s hand moved from on top of Winter’s to grab Winter’s wrist and pull his hand to Sam’s mouth to kiss it once, twice, thrice before letting go. Winter put the kissed hand on Sam’s shoulder to pull him closer. 

“Winter,” Sam was whispering in a strangled off way, “You’re already balls deep; you almost close?”

“Yes, but I want you to come first.”

“Oh, I’m close too, can you angle your cock like you did with your fingers earlier?”

Winter murmured an agreement before shifting himself and moving Sam like a doll, by the end of it, the position wasn’t that different but Winter’s hands were gripping Sam’s hips and he was doing deep, slow thrusts. 

Sam came with a strangled cry, it was better than Winter imagined he was so tight and hot he couldn’t stand it and he couldn’t pull out. He spilled deep inside of Sam and collapsed to the side of him. 

“I would ask you to clean up the mess you made but if you ate me out right now I’d start crying,” Sam was holding Winter close to his chest.

“Shame,” Winter said, “I would do it, дорогая.”

“I know you would,” Sam’s finger switched between twirling in Winter’s hair or soothing the scar tissue next to his metal arm, “I gotta get you a new shampoo and conditioner. Have you been using mine? It’s not going to work for you. Oh and I should cancel my heating because I’ll be having a human heating pad in my bed from now on.”

“I’m warm?” Winter asked like a lost child.

“I’m gonna start calling you Summer.”

Winter leaned up and kissed Sam’s beautiful neck. They lulled to sleep in each other’s arms. 

*

“Not what I was expecting to see. Glad I came back early and before Steve got here.”

Bucky kinda knew that voice but he couldn’t remember, wherever he was kinda stunk of sex and sweat. He sat up fast, too fast for someone who hadn’t been in possession of his own body in quite some time. 

Bucky looked down at himself, “I’m naked? What’s going on?”

“What’s going on, Winter. Is that you and Wilson are apparently having an affair. Wilson, Wilson, wake up!” Bucky looked around the room and saw the small Russian women Winter had been staying with, the one with a crush on Stevie. What was her name? It started with an N? The man lying next to him, Sam (Bucky couldn’t have forgotten his name if he tried, whenever he was awake he was the only thing Winter was thinking of), had been shaken awake and he and the woman were arguing.

“I’m not Winter.” The room grew quiet at his words.

“What?” 

“I’m not Winter, I think he fell asleep. Took him long enough, he’s been piloting this ship for months without a break.”

*

Bucky couldn’t provide much of an explanation as to how he and Winter were different people, Sam kept saying the letters DID but Bucky didn’t know what that meant. He was glad that he had a chance to separate himself and get dressed but he would love to be alone and away from everyone talking around him. He hadn’t been alone in space, body and mind since the war. 

Suddenly Sam turned to him, “Are you okay?”

“Huh, just a bit tired.”

“I just feel like I violated you. I mean, I didn’t even know you were in there, Winter didn’t tell me.”

Bucky rubbed his hands over his face, “It’s fine, not exactly how I thought I would finally wake up in my body in the twenty first century but Winter’s wanted to take you out for a while.”

The woman, Natasha, laughed, “Glad I walked in on you two post-coital or else it would sound like the Winter Soldier was going to kill Sam.”

“What are we going to do?” Sam asked, ignoring what Natasha had said.

“We wait for Steve to come and explain what’s happened.”

Bucky felt strange, he wanted to talk to Steve but if Winter stayed asleep how was he supposed to explain what had happened in the great blank swathes of time when Winter was piloting and Bucky was asleep. 

Sam groaned, “That’s not what I wanted to hear.”   
  
Some part of Bucky agreed.

*

It felt good to hug Steve, even if he still wasn’t used to how tall Steve was or his metal arm or how long his hair was. He felt like he was home for a moment and then they pulled away. He couldn’t ignore the wetness of Steve’s eyes and the pleading look in them.

“I don’t remember a lot of the Hydra stuff or the last time we met, the Winter Soldier is a different man in my head.”

“I don’t understand, Buck.”   
  
“I don’t understand either but sometimes my body is walking around and thinking thoughts but they aren’t my actions or my thoughts.” He was gesturing wildly, he knew he sounded crazy but it was hard to explain. Bucky felt faint as if he needed to sleep, “Ask Sam.”

Bucky wasn’t sure how he had come to be in a room with everyone and not just one with Steve but it felt like when he closed his eyes more than a millisecond was passing. 

“No one knew,” Natasha was saying and Sam was agreeing. 

“I’m really sorry, Steve,” Sam said and Steve had somehow traveled across the room to be right in front of Sam. Bucky was having a hard time standing, he was sure that he was swaying, the world seemed to be shifting back and forth under his feet.

“What happened to ‘I’m not sure he’s the kind you save?’” Bucky’s mouth felt so dry and his head was pounding away, was this what it was like to have a body, the last time had been adrenaline filled and he had been fighting Winter for control the whole time to be able to save Steve. 

He looked over at the three of them again and saw Natasha had put herself in between Sam and Steve. Bucky was going to collapse; he just needed to close his eyes for a moment so the swaying would stop. He could feel Winter waking up.

“What’s happening, Winter?” Bucky was going to vomit.

“You’re hungry. I’m sorry I haven’t fed us in days.” As if he had been waiting for confirmation of his state Bucky felt his body hit the floor. 

He opened his eyes to everyone crowded around him, “Did I pass out? I need to eat something, I’ll be fine.” Bucky tried to smile but he knew it was weak.

“Did Winter not eat that whole time he was gone?” Sam asked in a soft voice.

“No.”

“That self-punishing asshole, come on I think we all need to sit down and eat something.”

Winter was asking after Sam each moment of their silent meal, “Steve you gotta be alright with them being together because Winter is gonna develop shell shock if you separate them.”

“Buck,” Steve’s voice was pleading.

“No, don’t be a dick, Stevie,” Buck said before going back to his food, it was better than anything he had had in his entire life. Winter agreed in the back of his head muttering something about how wonderful of a chef Sam was. Bucky had no problem digging in and eating his fill; his stomach felt endless.

Natasha laughed, “That’s going to be hard for you, Rogers.” Bucky noticed how Steve tried to look annoyed but ultimately failed to look anything but charmed by the woman next to him.

Sam suddenly spoke up, “What do you want, Bucky?”

Bucky thought for a moment and he didn’t know, “I don’t know,” he said, “I’d just like the chance to find out.”

*

The altercation had tired Barnes out, he was still unused to their body. When Winter woke up and told everyone, mostly Sam, Sam was the only one who seemed to understand. He mumbled something about body dysmorphia and left it at that. It wasn’t long after that Steve and Natasha left, Winter knew if Barnes were still awake he would have made a comment about the two of them ‘getting a room.’ 

Winter heard a knock at the bedroom door, he opened it slowly, he knew it was Sam, it could be no one else.

“You alright?” Sam asked, he was having a hard time looking at Winter.

“Yes.”

“I imagine today was difficult when–”

“Yes,” Winter repeated, “I didn’t think to tell you about Barnes because I had no way of–”

“I understand,” Sam sighed, “That’s the worst part, I get it.”

“I just wanted you to be happy, Sam.”

Those words seem to lit a fire in Sam, “Was that the only reason? So  _ I  _ could be happy?”

“No. It was more selfish than that. I wanted you before I thought it would make you happy but once I knew it would make you happy I could not imagine not–” Winter turned away from Sam to walk back into the room, he wrapped his arms around himself, he felt fragmented. Suddenly he felt warmth at his back, Sam had wrapped his arms around Winter as well. 

“We were supposed to get your shampoo today.” Winter melted against Sam’s tender embrace.

“There will always be time for that,” Winter said and he believed it, there would be time for him to hold Sam and know him and meet his family. The warmth in his chest, he had to share with Sam. He turned in Sam’s embrace to lean down and kiss him, his Сэм. 

**Author's Note:**

> Russian Translations:   
> Сэм: Sam   
> моя дорогая: My dear/my love/sweetheart  
> Сэм. моя дорогая. Ты слишком узка там : Sam. My love. You’re too tight.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading my fic! I started this back in March 2019 after reading Tulips in a college English class and was spurred into action to finish it after seeing the Falcon & Winter Soldier trailer. This fic was beta read by my lovely irl friend so if there are any mistakes blame the two of us. Consider leaving me a comment they make my day! :)


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